


Caelan

by terryreviews



Category: Laws of Attraction (2004), Nan's Christmas Carol (2009)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, First Meetings, Illogical Husbands - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:42:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21929359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terryreviews/pseuds/terryreviews
Summary: The Ghost of Christmas Present is assigned to visit Thorne Jamison and right as he's about to make his entrance, it gets all bungled up. That and Thorne keeps flirting with him.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	Caelan

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly did not want to tag it with the real actor's names but there are no tags for Thorne (hell I was surprised I found a tag for the movies). So, I had to use what I found so that, if people ARE interested in this outlier Illogical Husband themed ship....welp here it is. I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you have fun reading it.

Thorne entered his hotel room with a frustrated sigh. The whole drama of the divorce, the unflattering publicity, the lack of tension relief in the form of another warm body, maddening.

All he wanted to do was shower and climb into bed. He had a gig tomorrow and needed to be rested.

Just as he went to open the door to the bathroom, music started coming through, and he lept back as the door flung open and a skinny man danced out, nearly colliding, stepping on Thorne’s foot, as the Ghostbusters theme song kicked up to the full chorus.

“Ah, whatcha doing there standing by the door like that?” The man groused as he righted himself and turned the song off, “ruined my entrance you did.”

At first, Thorne just stared, and then “you break into my room and you’re worried about a ruined entrance? How’d you get in here?”

“You’re awful calm for someone who has an unwanted guest,” the skinny man pushed passed him to the center of the room, looking around the accommodations.

“Occupational hazard. Know how many groupies I get letting themselves into my limos or my rooms? Throwing themselves at me?” That was true. At one of his gigs last week a woman had vaulted onto the stage and damn near tackled him. 

“Fair enough,” the man shrugged, “alright, so, before we begin, we should have something to eat. Temporal transportation isn’t easy on an empty stomach.” With that, he spotted and began to raid, the mini-fridge, pawing through overpriced water and snacks.

This was nothing new for Thorne. He knew how to handle even the craziest of fans and he took stock of the other.

Tight clothes in blacks and reds with a waistcoat, chains about the neck, cord jewelry around his wrists and at least one gaudy ring, with long, fluffed, hair, eyeliner, and scruff, he could’ve passed as one of the band. Maybe that’s how he got in here?

Still, Thorne had an image, and always strove to maintain his cool no matter what. A way to control the situation at least in part. So, he kept the conversation going, “What does that mean?”

The man popped up, arms full of plastic-wrapped cakes, beaming, “it means,” his Scottish accent and energized way of speaking more evident with his glee, “we’re going to take a trip.”

A ping went off in the rock star’s mind. The man in front of him was a toothpick, had no weapons, and judging from his bouncy personality and aesthetic, probably just an overzealous fan. He could work with this easily. Maybe it was crazy, reckless, to toy with the idea but when was he really one to think?

This wouldn’t be the first fan to break into his room, nowhere near the most violent, and he weathered them just fine. With this guy? Well, maybe he had a way to give him a once in a lifetime experience with a celebrity and tension relief for himself?

Putting on his sultry _meet me backstage babe_ tone Thorne asked, “Is that so?” He moved away from the door, further into the room, closer to the skinny man who began to regard him curiously, “and uh,” he licked his lips, “what kind of trip is that darling?”

The man’s head tilted, almost as if he were confused, his eyes flicking up and down as if trying to read what was going on, “uh, well, I’m here to help rehabilitate you. Show you the error of your ways and…what do you think I’m here for?”

“I couldn’t image sweetheart,” Throne’s voice had dipped, low, tempting as he moved closer. He’d had shy before. They never remained shy once he set to work on them. “I don’t even know your name.”

The man blinked as if he had a script yanked out of his hands and was left floundering to improve Shakespeare, “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Present.”

That was unexpected and Thorne had to pause in his prowl, “huh, that your band name or?”

“I’m not in a band, that’s my title. I’m a ghost and yeah, usually there’s another guy that comes before me in this but he had the night off and you actually weren’t that bad in your youth so it skipped to me and the other _other_ guy well he’s dealing with some real bad guys so…”

Truth be told, Thorne had no idea what the guy was talking about. Probably part of a bigger gimmick or something. “A ghost, right.” That’s when Thorne decided to move that much closer to the man, close enough that he could wrap his arms around that slender waist, “don’t know if you’re a nutter or just really committed to your gimmick, but either way I’m feeling it.”

“Oi!” The man held up the snacks between their chests preventing Thorne from bringing his mouth to his, “I’m all for spreading Christmas cheer but this isn’t a date,” the ghost pushed and was released so he could step back.

“Could be. You’re very pretty for a ghost.”

The man balked, tossing the snacks to the bed, cheeks flushed, “I’m here to show you the fruits of your wickedness in an effort to make you reflect and change. Change not only your actions but inside your own heart. I’m not here to snog.”

Thorne held up his hands placating, “could do both? I get it,” he gestured at himself, “you’re shy. Didn’t really think your whole plan out. Get in here and make an entrance and panicked. No harm love. But if we’re not going to get down to it, mind leaving so I can go to sleep? I have a gig tomorrow and need my rest.” With that Thorne gestured toward the door of the room, “you can take the snacks. Won’t even call the cops.” He turned to go lock himself in the bathroom, when the other man materialized directly in front of him, surrounded by swirled fog all of a sudden causing Thorne to jump, eyes wide, jaw-dropping.

“Look here mister, I’ve come here to do a job, alright? Maybe we didn’t do the steps in order this time round but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re on my list and so you’re going to have a little sponge cake and I’m going to take you around so you can see what your wickedness has wrought. I’m not even the mean one, either of the mean ones, so you should count yourself lucky.”

Recovering quickly from the shock of a little smoke and mirror act, Thorne attempted to keep suave, “cool trick. Like magicians. But uh, it isn’t even Christmas.”

The ghost rolled his eyes “I know that. We don’t just work Christmas. That’s just when we handle the bigger, nastier cases. Smaller people, like yourself, we do in the offseason.”

“Why go by Ghost of Christmas present then instead of changing it to something else?”

“Because that’s the title and…you know what, fine, I’ll come back in a few months. Okay? You want to wait until Christmas, fine,” He stormed around Thorne to snag a snack for himself from where he’d tossed it on the bed, “expect me on Christmas Eve. And hope that it is only me.”

“Seriously? After all of this, you’re going to just come back on Christmas?”

“Christmas Eve and I don’t stalk you. You’re on my list.” The ghost tucked his cake into a pocket and raised his fingers as if preparing for another trick.

“Come on, really, what’s your name huh? Why not drop this whole…” he made a gesture, “thing and we can get comfortable?”

There was a potent pause as the ghost took him in, pierced his soul with his gaze before answering very slowly, “been a while since I’ve given anyone my name. And you’re kind of a bastard but…wouldn’t be on my list if there weren’t something in there that was pure and good…Caelan is my name and you’ve got two months to prepare for when I come back. Christmas Eve. It won’t matter where you are by the way but hopefully, you won’t ruin my intro next time.”

Before Thorne could say anything, Caelan snapped and vanished.

It took a few minutes before Thorne decided he must’ve just eaten something bad, or he drank a bit too much at dinner and threw himself into a shower and bed. The promise of a return visit, however, floated in his mind. Two months. Nah, he must’ve imagined the whole thing, he probably had been sleepwalking or something and didn’t realize it. He closed his eyes and fell asleep, thinking of the supposed ghost with fantastic fashion sense and who was easy on the eyes.


End file.
